


Tea And Philosophy

by SkyScribbles



Series: It Feels Like Light [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: (And Its Flaws), Couch Cuddles, Dialogue Heavy, Jedi Code, M/M, Philosophical Discussions, Post-Shadow Of Revan, Seriously This Is Just A Long Talk Over Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyScribbles/pseuds/SkyScribbles
Summary: The Battlemaster of the Order has some unusual views on the Jedi Code. And Theron is pretty happy about that.





	Tea And Philosophy

‘So… are you all right with this?’

Theron has to raise his voice to make himself heard over the clatter of the rain. It’s always like this, on Corellia. Long days of dry warmth, and then downpours that drag on for weeks or more. In some of the richer city districts, energy shields can be raised over busiest streets during the daytime, so that the citizens can go about their business without getting their hairstyles flattened. But out here, in the forest areas beyond the city walls, there’s nothing to be done but close the windows, turn up the heating, and huddle inside until the storms pass.

And Theron’s all right with that. Because there are worse places to be than curled up inside a small, warm building with your sort-of boyfriend.

The cabin they’re in is an SIS safehouse, one Theron’s been using as a launchpoint for a mission into the capital. That mission's over now, and once it was done, Theron didn't head straight back to Coruscant as he normally would have. Instead, he opened a secure channel and sent a message to Zeth: just his coordinates, and the words, ‘If you’re free.’

Only thirty seconds later, his implants notified him of a response. ‘On my way.’

So here they are, with the rain falling and the sky outside slowly fading to black. It’s late enough that Theron’s vaguely surprised they’re not already in bed – the chill of the evening is pressing against the window, and ever since Zeth sent his return message, Theron’s been looking forward to finding an energetic and enjoyable way for the two of them to warm up.

But by the time Zeth arrived, the storm was well underway, and he was so drenched that Theron didn’t feel justified in doing anything other than pulling him over to the sofa and offering him caf. Which Zeth declined, in favour of tea. And then they’d talked, each of them cupping their mugs and huddling close for warmth. And huddling close because it was just… nice. Having someone else pressed against him. Someone who was more than just a single night’s respite, a quick post-mission thing to blow off steam. Someone whose arm is comfortably, almost casually around his shoulders, and who makes him feel calm and grounded just by being in the room with him. He and Zeth have been meeting like this for months, ever since Yavin, and yet Theron still finds himself amazed at how Zeth’s presence somehow gets him to drop his work, drop his walls, and just… be.

Yeah. It’s nice.

They talked, watching the rain, watching the lightning flashes cast momentary white highlights on the trees outside the window. And suddenly, Theron found himself thinking of what Satele would say if she could see this. Her son and her Battlemaster, curled up together. And that was why the question slipped out. Because thinking of Satele, of her inevitable disapproval (not that Theron cares all that much if she disapproves of him, but he cares about what it would mean for Zeth), made him realise that he’s never asked. He’s been wondering it since Rishi, but he’s never asked why Zeth - Zeth, who's about as Jedi as you can get - seems to be okay with this. Whatever it is. Whatever they are.

To his relief, Zeth seems to understand the rather vague question. ‘Well,’ he says, and a smile tugs at his mouth. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

‘Sure, but you’re not…’ Theron gestures with his mug – probably a mistake, since a few drops of caf slosh over the side. ‘No offence, but you never struck me as a ‘screw the Code’ sort of Jedi.’

He wonders for an instant if Zeth _will_ be offended - any other Jedi probably would be - but he’s met only with a chuckle. ‘No, I’m not. Kira likes to tell me I’m… I think the words she used were _walking textbook.’_

Theron snorts. Just goes to show his point, really. When you think of Jedi who are willing to break the ‘no attachments’ part of their code, people like Kira are the kind you think of. Sassy, irreverent, raised outside the Order. You don’t think of soft-spoken, obedient knights who’ve been Jedi pretty much their whole lives.

‘Not that you’re like some of them,’ Theron says hastily. ‘The ones who – I mean, I know they’re good people. But they can be –’ He hesitates, searching for words that won’t seem harsh.

‘Self-righteous?’ Zeth suggests. He doesn’t seem particularly troubled. ‘Unfeeling?’

‘Yeah. You try talking to them about anything and you get a line from some Jedi behaviour codebook.’

This produces another chuckle. ‘Stars, I’m glad you didn’t meet me when I was a Padawan. I couldn't go five minutes without quoting the Code. You would have _hated_ me.’

‘Doubt it. You’re the last person I’d call unfeeling.’

A flush of pleasure crosses Zeth’s face. He takes a long sip of his tea, swills the remaining liquid around in his mug, and sets it down carefully.

‘The truth is,’ he says, ‘and this will sound strange, but, uh… I don’t think I’m breaking the Jedi Code by being here.’

Theron snorts again – this time, unfortunately, while also trying to take a gulp of his caf. After a moment of undignified spluttering, and a brief struggle to stop himself from spurting liquid out of his nose, he manages to get words out. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but I seem to remember something about _there is no emotion_ and _there is no passion_ in that Code of yours.’

‘I said it would sound strange,’ Zeth says mildly. ‘I know there are Jedi who hear ‘there is no emotion’ and… accept it as fact. It’s what I did, back when I was a Padawan. But once I got out into the world, I realise it’s more nuanced than that. Or it should be, anyway. I suppose I’ve started to see the Code a little differently to most Jedi.’

He turns his head towards the window, and looks out at the storm silently for a moment. ‘I… well, put it this way. When I went to the Emperor’s fortress with Master Braga’s strike team, when Vitiate –’ He stops, and Theron feels a shudder run through him. ‘When he – _took_ me –’

His lips purse, his shoulders tense, and Theron – without really thinking about what he’s doing – inches a little closer to him.

‘Nobody in the Order expected me not to… feel things… about what happened. And I did feel. I was terrified, and ashamed, and confused, and… there aren’t enough words for it. I can’t tell you what it's like to have someone like that claw their way into your skull, flip a switch in your brain and turn you into –’

He shakes his head, and draws in a breath. Slowly, the tension drains from his body. ‘Believe me, I felt. And nobody ever suggested I should just ignore that kind of trauma.’

‘They sure threw you back at Vitiate pretty fast.’

‘I volunteered. Besides, the galaxy was, um, kind of being threatened with annihilation.’ Zeth takes up his cup again. ‘The point is – I wasn’t breaking the Jedi Code by being so shaken. I wasn’t breaking the Jedi Code when – after Vitiate was dead, or we thought he was – I took months off to recover. But I would have been breaking the Code if I’d been so afraid of Vitiate that I refused to fight him, even though billions could die if I didn’t. Or if I'd lashed out. If I was so angry with him for what he did to me that I decided I was going to take him down no matter what, and I didn't care who got hurt along the way.'

Zeth lets out a long, slow breath. ‘I’m not going to pretend that throwing myself right back into battle after what happened was the healthiest thing to do. But I knew I was capable of it, and I took the time I needed afterwards. There was only one person who wasn’t happy about me having time to heal, and that was Scourge. He kept muttering about the need to stay alert. In the end, Kira threatened to throw him out of the airlock.’ His lips twitch – not quite a smile, but close to one. ‘The point is, nobody in the Order expected me to be a machine. Nobody thought I could just keep going, and that I should ignore the fact that I was in pain. So… to me, _there is no emotion_ doesn’t mean we mustn’t feel anything, ever. It’s about not letting what you feel control you. It’s about not letting your pain cause pain for other people.’

Theron nods slowly. It makes sense. But he still doesn’t like that Zeth got thrown at the Emperor again without a pause. He doesn’t like that Zeth works himself to breaking point like this. And yes, he knows he's hardly one to talk about never giving yourself a break, but at least he always has a choice. Once it became obvious he didn't have the Force, he got to choose what he wanted to do with his life. Zeth was taken from his family when he was too young to speak full sentences, and ever since then, the Jedi have tried to condition him into someone who'd never think about himself or his own happiness. They never gave him a choice.

_He chose this, though. He chose me. They didn't manage to control him completely._

Theron shakes himself back into the present. ‘Still, even if they give you some leeway with the _no emotion_ thing, they’re not fond of attachment. Right?’

Zeth makes a soft _hmm_ sound. ‘Depends on how you define ‘attachment.’’

‘Sounds a lot like a blanket ban on –’ He bites back the word _love._ Not because isn't what he feels (it is), or because he doubts it’s what Zeth feels (he obviously does), but because this thing they have is still too new for a word that means so much. ‘Getting close to anyone.'

‘I think most of the Order would agree. But I don’t.’ Zeth looks faintly surprised at the boldness of his own words. ‘I think… it’s dangerous to let your bond with someone consume you. That’s attachment. When you can’t live for yourself. When you feel like you’re _owed_ the person you love.’

He tries to take another sip, but his mug’s empty. He puts it aside with an unmistakable look of disappointment. ‘Attachment is when you’ll go to any lengths to win someone. When you neglect everything else in your life. If they’re threatened, you’ll tear the planets apart to protect them, even if you inflict unimaginable suffering on others in the process. And if you lose them… you’ll do anything to punish the people who took them from you. That’s what I think attachment is: obsession. And never mind Jedi, that can't be healthy for anyone, Force-sensitive or not. I'm sure that's not what love is.’

Theron drains the last of his caf. ‘Well, get back to me when you get the rest of the Order to acknowledge the difference.’

‘I’ll keep you posted on that one.’ Zeth sighs. ‘I know most Jedi don't think the way I do. I know I don't get to decide what the Code means. All I know is that this is what it means to me, and if I follow it, I can live with myself.'

They’re both quiet for a while, and Theron thinks the conversation is over. Then Zeth says, ‘I suppose the problem is that the Force wasn’t meant to have Codes attached.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘I mean – it's a force of nature. It’s not something that can be defined by what we say is right and wrong. It just… _is.’_ He makes a vague gesture. ‘We don’t apply rules to mountains or rivers. But because the Force is something that’s inside us, something that can alter our minds or be used as a weapon, we make rules. To stop ourselves from drowning in it. To stop ourselves from drowning other people. But it… it’ll never be something that fits neatly into those rules. It was never meant to.’

‘Tell that to half your Order.’

‘You mean the half who cling to the rules and can’t let them go,’ Zeth says, very quietly. ‘The half who think ‘there is no emotion’ means they have to stop feeling. The half who stop caring. The half who think that because they’re so different to everyone else, they’re… better. Purer.’

‘Yeah. That half.’

Zeth presses his lips tightly together. ‘I could have been one of them. If I hadn’t had Kira teasing me mercilessly every time I started to act like that.’

Theron just shakes his head. Self-righteousness tends to require some level of self-confidence, and from what he’s heard, Zeth was in short supply of that during his Padawan days.

‘It’s like the Sith,’ Zeth says, unexpectedly and bewilderingly. ‘I mean, I used to think the Sith Code was about cruelty. Then I met Sith, or former Sith, like Praven and Scourge and Lana, and talked to them, and… I realised that to them, it didn’t mean that. To them, it meant freedom. Embracing what you feel, and not letting anyone else chain you. And at their core, those aren’t bad things. But some Sith, or most Sith, use those beliefs to justify indulging their every whim, however cruel. At their worst, they become like Vitiate.’

‘So the Jedi who turn themselves into droids – you think they’re doing the same thing? Forgetting what their code’s really about?’

Zeth nods. ‘Selflessness. That’s what the Code means to me. And the Jedi who let themselves become emotionless are… how can you feel compassion if you’re not letting yourself feel anything at all? Closing yourself off like that - it’s got to be almost as dangerous as getting lost in hatred and rage.’ He’s silent for a moment. ‘Or maybe it’s worse. Because you’re so convinced you’re doing good.’

Another lightning flash brightens the room for an instant, and Zeth shrugs. ‘Anyway. The, uh, the point of all this rambling is… you’re right, I do believe in the Jedi Code. But I don’t think I’m breaking it, as long as –‘

He frowns, clearly uncertain of how to phrase it, and Theron can’t stop himself from grinning. ‘As long as you’re having common sense and being nice to people?’

This startles a laugh out of Zeth – a rare event. Normally Theron has to make do with sightings of the far more common amused smile and soft chuckle. But when Zeth does laugh… stars, is it worth the wait.

‘I guess so. Thousands of years of the Order meditating on the Force, and you manage to distil the Jedi Code into a single sentence. Have you ever considered a career as a philosopher, Theron?'

And Theron laughs too. 'Pretty sure SIS agents get better pay. Besides, I don't think your Council would appreciate my philosophical genius if they knew about this.'

He waves his hand on _this,_ indicating the room, the two of them, together. And then freezes, because oh, stars, he almost said _if they knew about us._ And even what he did say, even just his gesture, suggests that there’s an _us –_

(There is an _us,_ of course. They are an _us._ Theron’s just not quite ready to say so yet.)

‘No. They wouldn’t.’ There’s a heaviness in Zeth’s voice – but then he twists his head around to look at Theron, and he’s smiling. ‘I know why they forbid attachment of the kind that warps you into something dangerous. But – just love, that makes you into a stronger and better version of yourself? I don’t think that can be wrong.’

And, with a small sound of contentment, he leans back on the sofa, rests his head against Theron’s shoulder, and closes his eyes.

Which Theron is glad about. The eye-closing, that is. Because he doesn’t know what kinds of emotions might be showing on his face right now. What Zeth just said wasn’t, strictly speaking, a declaration of love – but it’s something pretty damn close.

And stars, that feels huge. It feels like it deserves a response, something in return, but Theron can’t form any words. He can’t even put a name to anything he’s feeling. All he knows is that there's something warm and fierce pressing against the inside of his chest, and that the Jedi Code is definitely flawed, because even if you lived your entire life only feeling the tiniest fraction of what Theron’s feeling right now, you’d still be feeling so much that you could never believe a statement as inane as _there is no emotion._

Later, once night has fully fallen, he’ll act out those warming-up plans he thought up earlier. He’ll take Zeth to bed, and show him with his body what he still can’t quite put into words. He’ll make sure that, while the night lasts, Zeth feels as much as he wants to. Everything the Jedi would try to keep from him. He'll make sure Zeth is as happy as he deserves to be.

But that can come later, and right now, Theron’s in no hurry. Because Zeth is right, about what love means. Theron has never felt more like himself – stronger, brighter, more whole – than he does right now. Lingering in this moment, with a man he loves snug at his side, listening to the rain fall.


End file.
